


Conversations With Roses

by wiseturtle



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Byleth is just as distrustful of Seteth as Seteth is of her, F/M, Just a rewrite of his support, Seteth's C support, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21657571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiseturtle/pseuds/wiseturtle
Summary: Despite the many tea tables set up under the pavilion in the east courtyard, Seteth leads her to a table tucked away from prying eyes. A kettle is already set up, a thin wisp of steam rising from the spout. Byleth takes her seat, and Seteth pours her a cup. The aroma is pleasant. Four-Spice Blend, if she’s not mistaken.“I did not know what kind of tea you prefer,” Seteth informs her, pouring his own cup, “so I made a pot of my favorite blend. I hope you will not find it impertinent of me.”
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Seteth, My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Comments: 5
Kudos: 85





	Conversations With Roses

**Author's Note:**

> So, like, its two in the morning, and I'm just hoping this is coherent lol.
> 
> I was writing another fic and was like, "oh I'll just put in Seteth's support to introduce at what point in their relationship he and Byleth are at," but it didn't fit, but I was already almost through so now it's just a stand-alone rewrite of his support.
> 
> Enjoy this mess.

Byleth likes to wander through the gardens of the inner courtyards of the Monastery. They are carefully maintained, manicured in a way that is unnatural but fascinating to her, who had only seen the unkempt wilderness.

There are climbing roses twisting their way up the gazebo, blooms of white and the softest pink Byleth has ever seen. Her fingers twitch with the urge to touch the silky petals, but she has long since learned to curb her impulses. She relents to simply admiring them when her musings are interrupted.

Setheth announces his presence by clearing his throat, and his hands are folded behind his back, as always, when she turns to him.

“Seteth,” she greets with a nod.

“Professor,” he replies. It’s a new title, one she has not quite gotten used to despite the few months she has borne it. “I was hoping you would join me for a cup of tea. I have a few questions I would like to ask you.”

Byleth accepts, though not without careful consideration. She knows Seteth does not trust her, and if she can do anything to dissuade that distrust, if only to get those eyes off of her every movement, she would do what she could. Perhaps she could learn more about him, as well.

Despite the many tea tables set up under the pavilion in the east courtyard, Seteth leads her to a table tucked away from prying eyes. A kettle is already set up, a thin wisp of steam rising from the spout. Byleth takes her seat, and Seteth pours her a cup. The aroma is pleasant. Four-Spice Blend, if she’s not mistaken.

“I did not know what kind of tea you prefer,” Seteth informs her, pouring his own cup, “so I made a pot of my favorite blend. I hope you will not find it impertinent of me.”

“Not at all,” Byleth assures. “The mercenaries preferred ale over tea, so I am discovering my tastes, myself.”

“I see.” There is a hint of distaste in Seteth’s tone at the mention of the rowdy lifestyle of the mercenaries, but he hides it behind a sip of tea. Byleth kindly pretends not to notice. “Actually, that pertains to what I wanted to ask you about.”

Byleth nods for him to continue. He takes another sip of his tea and begins. “It is my duty here at the Monastery to aid the Archbishop in any way she sees fit. I take on the administrative duties of the Church, and I oversee the Knights of Seiros and the Officers Academy. As you may expect, I am the Archbishop’s greatest confidant. I am honored that she holds my opinion so high. However…”

He takes another long sip of tea. “Your appointment as professor here was a complete surprise to me.”

Byleth regards the man for a moment, sipping her tea and watching him with sharp eyes. She had thought he disliked her simply because he did not trust her, but now it sounds like there might be another, more petty reason. Seteth doesn’t seem like a prideful man, but he might be resentful simply because she was appointed without his consent.

She searches for the right words, and she settles on, “It was quite a surprise for me, as well.”

“I do not doubt it.” Seteth shakes his head, bewildered. “When accepting a new teacher, there should be a thorough investigation of that person before they are allowed access to the inner workings of the Church, especially if they are to interact with the children. But no such investigation has been conducted. I understand that you are skilled in matters of war and strategy, but some precaution must be maintained.”

Byleth blinks. Perhaps she was wrong. It seems as if Seteth truly cares about the safety of the Church and those under its protection. She finds herself very interested in puzzling him out.

She leans back in her chair, casually cradling her tea. “So you do not trust me.”

“Unfortunately, that is what it comes down to. Please know that I mean no offence.”

“I understand,” Byleth assures. “I am a stranger welcomed into your home under circumstances you do not understand. I am not surprised by your distrust. I find it quite natural.”

“I am relieved,” replies Seteth, and he genuinely looks so. His shoulders drop a minuscule amount.

Byleth looks down at her tea, swirling it gently. “I assume these questions you want to ask are your attempts at an investigation?”

“Of a sorts, yes.” he admits. “Of course, this is not a sufficient enough check of your background, but having some idea of who you are would put my mind at ease.”

Byleth’s lips twitch. She hides it behind her cup. “Ask, then, and I will answer as truthfully as I am able.”

“Then let us begin.” Seteth straightens up in his chair. Byleth had not even been aware that he had relaxed into the conversation until he rid himself of it. “You are the child of Jeralt Eisner, correct?”

“I believe so,” she answers.

Seteth’s brows furrow ever so slightly in irritation. “That is quite a vague answer for such a basic question. Are you not sure?”

Byleth shrugs. “I never knew my mother, and as you may see, my father and I share little common features. My relation to Jeralt has always been called into question, but whether or not we share the same blood, I consider him my father.”

“I see.” Something in her answer must have pleased Seteth because his lips lift into a small smile. He quickly banishes it back into a neutral frown and continues his questions. “How long have you been a mercenary?”

Byleth hums, looking up at the sky. “I am not sure,” she finally says. “I have been fighting for as long as I can remember.”

“Most curious.” Seteth raises a hand to his chin. “That reminds me, I do not know your age.”

Byleth’s lips twitch again. “I am afraid I do not know.”

“You don’t know?” Seteh looks taken aback, and Byleth finds it harder to fight her smile.

“I do not.” She takes a sip of tea in case her smile breaks through. “My father never kept track of the years.”

“What was Jeralt thinking, raising a child this way?” Seteth exclaims, mostly to himself. He seems particularly troubled by it, and he drinks the last of his tea with a sigh. “Perhaps it is best to end my questions here. With what little you seem to know about yourself, it seems it would be a waste of time to continue.” He rises and begins to gather the tea set.

Byleth nods and rises too. “Thank you for the tea. I enjoyed our conversation.”

“Likewise, despite how frustrating it turned out to be.”

Byleth smiled, faintly. “Perhaps we can have tea again and talk about more pleasant things.”

Seteth smiles back. “Perhaps.” He begins to walk away, but he hesitates before he gets too far, turning back to Byleth with a complicated expression. “Before I leave, I do want to make one thing clear. The Archbishop has placed great faith in you, and though I do not know her reasons, I trust her judgement. Please, do not betray that trust.”

Byleth bows her head. “I understand.” She does not promise that she won’t. She still does not trust Rhea, and if it came down to it, she would not hesitate to lift a blade against her. But for now, she has determined that the Church itself is not an enemy. Or at least, Seteth does not seem to be.

“Good.” Seteth bows his head. “Then I will see you at dinner.”

“Goodbye, Seteth,” Byleth replies. She watches him disappear behind the stone walls that surround the courtyards, bringing a hand up to rest at her chin.

Seteth is an interesting man, set in his morals and beliefs. He would be a good ally to have. Loyal and kind-hearted. That is her impression, anyway. Byleth can admit to herself that she looks forward to learning more about the man.

Byleth allows her thoughts to wander, and she continues on her walk through the gardens.

**Author's Note:**

> Might write the other two supports (and maybe even an S-support if I'm feeling frisky), but this was an accident already, so I make no promises.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
